


Delicious

by ElAlmaDelMar



Series: A/B/O/tober 2020 [7]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Claiming Bites, Love at first scent, M/M, Powerbottoming, alpha sanji, omega zoro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:01:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26887045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElAlmaDelMar/pseuds/ElAlmaDelMar
Summary: But Zoro wanted his own scent on the guy. Preferably applied via punching his stupid swirlybrowed face in until he stopped acting like a weirdo.A/B/O/tober Day 7: Love/lust at first scent
Relationships: Roronoa Zoro/Sanji
Series: A/B/O/tober 2020 [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947415
Comments: 12
Kudos: 309
Collections: A/B/O/tober 2020





	Delicious

Zoro smelled him before he saw him. And _holy shit_ was it the worst goddamn whiplash of his life. 

First, the scent. He didn't think of himself as the kind of person who really got all that worked up over scents. People had them, things had them, smell was a sense that you used to interact with the world, that was it. If you were close with someone, you could start to sniff out their moods and feelings as well as their basic natures. He was, by this point, starting to get the hang of how Luffy's scent worked, just as mercurial and unpredictable as the kid himself, but full of interesting quirks and hidden determination that made Zoro like him very much. 

Docked at the floating restaurant, sitting at a table with Usopp and Nami, he abruptly became aware of the most mouth-watering personal scent he'd ever encountered. Another alpha scent, like Luffy's, but — not _richer_ , exactly. Different. _Enticing_ where Luffy's was inviting. It was complex and multilayered and spoke to some wordless corner of Zoro's soul in the language of battle and its aftermath — strength and gentleness, fierceness and concern, fighting and healing. Inhaling it was like throwing back a shot of the world's most potent liquor, except that the liquor would burn and this did anything but. Hell, one sniff and he thought he could be addicted already. 

A moment later, the smarmy blond waiter was at their table, giving Usopp grief and fawning over Nami in the most obnoxious display of simpering servility the swordsman had ever seen in his damned life. 

It took him a moment to realize that _this_ was the source of that amazing scent. This — this — _fuck_ , he didn't seem to have a lick of pride. If they hadn't been around a table like normal human beings, he was half-sure the guy would be on the floor in a heartbeat, rolling over and showing his belly like a dog. He hated the guy on sight. 

But that _scent._

One thing led to another and then Zoro had much bigger problems than a shitty waiter-cook who had the gall to smell like he'd come straight from the heaven Zoro didn't even believe in. Hard to worry too much about that shit when you're practically cut in half and clinging to your life by sheer willpower. 

By the time he'd pulled together enough to really be aware of the world around him, they were at sea again, with Luffy left behind to deal with the pirate attack on the restaurant. He listened to Johnny and Yosaku try to strategize with Usopp about how they were going to handle Nami once they caught up to her — thought about interjecting, but that suddenly sounded like a hell of a lot of effort. Blood loss did that to you, probably. He closed his eyes and lolled where he was. 

He didn't think they'd ever be going back to that restaurant, if it even survived whatever was going on back there. He couldn't decide if he was disappointed or relieved. On the one hand, that blond asshole had smelled amazing, and Zoro wanted that scent again. On the other… he'd been an asshole. And one who was weak to Nami, who'd proved to be exactly the double-crossing witch he'd thought. Maybe it was better if he'd never see or smell him again. 

But when Luffy showed up, it was with the blond in tow. Look at that, their new cook. Not only was Zoro _not_ safely away from that amazing scent attached to the unbearable asshole, but Luffy was practically hanging on the guy, delighted to have a cook to feed him. Smearing his own scent all over the blond's. 

It shouldn't have mattered. Both of them were alphas — and it wasn't like Luffy was trying to make a claim on the guy as anything other than nakama. But it roiled something low in Zoro's gut nonetheless. He _wanted_ that scent — couldn't help but want the fucker it was attached to. Didn't want anyone _else_ trying to make a claim on him — no matter how nonsensical that thought was, it wouldn't get out of his head. Of course Luffy had a right to put a scent claim on him; he was their captain, their pack leader. They were all, one way or another, Luffy's — why should the cook be different? But Zoro wanted his own scent on the guy. Preferably applied via punching his stupid swirlybrowed face in until he stopped acting like a weirdo. 

Dealing with Arlong helped a little. When it counted, Sanji came through — the guy was strong, fast, deadly. Jumped right in between Luffy and a huge fuckoff chunk of rubble. Zoro appreciated that about him. Made him think that this was — maybe — manageable. 

But the whiplash continued. The food was — better than good. Better than he was ever gonna say, because the last fucking thing Zoro wanted was to stop being a _provocation_ and discover that being an omega meant winding up beside women on some kind of potential-mate pedestal. Much better to be the biggest pain in the ass he could be and get the cook growling in his face, all aggressive and ready to fight. All scented-up with aggression and territoriality and the willingness to be just as tough and hard as the obstacles in his path. 

He was _so damned fucking delectable_ when he was spoiling for a fight. Of all the things in the goddamn unjust universe that were fundamentally un-fucking-fair, that was the one that drove Zoro crazy. 

They couldn't go on like that forever. Something had to give. Something had to break in the tension between them, the fights and Zoro's insane addiction to the scent of a riled-up cook. 

That something turned out to be Zoro running full-frontal smack-on into Sanji the day before he was going to go isolate himself for his heat. 

He'd been coming in from the deck as Sanji was heading out, distracted with the discomfort of his impending heat and mulling over how long he was going to be out of commission and how much trouble Luffy was going to get into before he was back on his feet. He didn't know what the damn cook's problem was, but it was evidently just as preoccupying as his. The two of them ran directly into each other, chest to chest, and Zoro felt his frayed self-control _snap_. 

With a snarl, he grabbed Sanji by the tie, shoulder-checked him back into the galley, and slammed him up against the wall, all before Sanji had the time or composure to do more than sputter a furious insult. 

"H-hey! What the fuck are you—" 

Words cut off abruptly as Zoro crashed his mouth down over Sanji's. Hunger, pure hunger, and days and weeks of frustration and annoyance and the stupidly focused _want_ that had been building up ever since that day in the restaurant in East Blue when the scent of spice and sea and smoke first wafted into his nostrils. He kissed Sanji like he picked fights with him, and after a long tense moment where the whole situation teetered on the brink of being their worst fight to date — Sanji started to kiss him back, just as hard, just as fierce, and every fiber of Zoro's being leaped to cry _Yes!_

A long-fingered hand clutched hard against the back of Zoro's head, and Sanji bit his lower lip — no simple love-nip, that, no, it was fierce and sharp and nearly hard enough to bleed. Perfect. 

He brought all his weight to bear against the cook, pinned him against the wall not only with a hand and a kiss but with the full measure of himself. Between incipient heat and the rush of finally, _finally_ getting what he wanted, he was already half-hard from no more than the cook's willing response, and he wasn't going to waste a single second trying to pretend he wasn't. 

"Fuck," Sanji groaned when Zoro let him up for a breath of air. " _Fuck._ " 

Zoro agreed. 

He didn't know how long they stayed there, devouring each other with needy kisses, hands gripping and squeezing and exploring each other, bodies grinding shamelessly together until he could feel Sanji hard and needy through his thin suit trousers. Finally, finally, he was properly feasting on Sanji's scent, on his _taste_ — finally grinding his own scent over it, soaking Sanji in his own scent as if to stake his claim. 

But it was Sanji who pushed them toward the next step. "Not here," he growled, pushing Zoro back just a little — not nearly enough to feel like a rejection, but enough to say _pause._ "Anyone could walk in. Not _here._ " 

Getting to Merry's storage deck was a blur. Zoro had no memory of the trip, no recollection at all of how he coordinated his body to do anything that wasn't _throw Sanji down and ride him til we both explode._

But they made it, and Sanji locked the door behind them, and now there was no reason at all to stop. 

As soon as the lock clicked, he was on the cook again, this time scrabbling to drag his tie off and tug that fucking starched collar open so he could get at the pale, smooth flesh beneath and bury his face in the crook of Sanji's neck, breathing him in and mouthing at the delicious skin. The groan his mouth drew from Sanji rumbled through them both, and those sinfully skilled hands clutched at his ass, grabbed and held him close, kneaded at muscle. Touched him, all over, deep and possessive and fucking _perfect._

"I want you," Zoro growled against Sanji's throat. "I fucking—" 

"Yeah, yeah." The words might have sounded dismissive, but not in that breathy, unstable voice. No, they were _eager_ , just as aroused as Zoro, just as _hungry._ Perfect. "Yeah, I'll give it to you. Everything you want." 

" _You._ " 

"You have me." 

Omega he might be, but Zoro wasn't about to go down quietly on his back. He pulled at Sanji's clothing, came within an inch of just tearing his shirt open before a growl and a snap from the lean alpha stopped him, and there was no way the two of them, riding the wave of hormones and need as they were, could possibly take the time to undress each other slowly. Not now, not this first time. They scrambled out of their clothing and then Zoro was shoving Sanji down, pushing _him_ onto his back and straddling those narrow hips with a wolfish grin of victory. 

Not that Sanji was staying down either. He pushed himself half-sitting and hooked a hand behind Zoro's head to drag him down into another hard kiss, hard and biting with an undertone of _claim_ that had him fucking shuddering with want. 

No time like the present, and no reason to hold back. He wrapped a hand around the cook's cock, heavy and thick as befit a virile alpha, and felt his fucking mouth water — felt the entire fucking space between his thighs tingle with the need to feel it push into him. So much fucking time spent silently lusting, and here they were, his chosen alpha hot between his legs and ready for him. 

He stroked a few times, let Sanji feel the calluses on his fingers, felt Sanji shudder with the pleasure of his rough touch, then he rose up and lined them up and drove himself down in a single hard slam that had stars bursting behind his eyes and Sanji cursing in breathless delight, filthy praise falling from his lips. 

Omega he might be, but Zoro left no question who was running the show here. Sanji moved with him, clutched at his hips and fucked upward into his body, but it was Zoro who set the pace, Zoro who rode him with the fierce singleminded need that had been wrapping him tighter and tighter around the cook since the day they met. 

And when he felt himself nearing his peak, when he felt the cook's knot start to catch on him, each thrust carrying them closer and closer to the edge, he leaned down and buried his face in Sanji's neck again and _breathed_ , filling his lungs with that thick rich smell and carrying it with him as he drove himself down fully onto Sanji's cock, knot forcing him open and locking them together. His muscles clamped down around it and he _howled_ as he felt Sanji's teeth latch into his shoulder in the same moment. The claiming bite felt like the culmination of everything, an answer to his longstanding desire to grind his scent over Sanji's and never, ever let it fade. 

_Mine, mine, mine!_

The rush faded from them both slowly; Zoro heaved a deep sigh of contentment as his muscles slowly pulsed around Sanji's knot in the aftermath of climax, and Sanji traced aimless designs on his skin with idle fingertips. 

After a few moments, one hand rose to brush lightly over the bite on Zoro's shoulder. Even with the careful touch, Zoro shuddered; it was far more sensitive than anything so small had the right to be. But it wasn't just a wound, was it? No, more than that — much more. 

"... Sorry," the cook muttered, sounding more genuinely regretful than Zoro thought he'd ever heard him. "... Should've asked before doing that." 

"Shut the fuck up," Zoro mumbled, absolutely no heat in his reply. "I wanted you to. Been wanting you since the start." 

That earned him a wide-eyed stare. "... No shit?" 

"No shit. You smelled better than the damn food, standing there all full of yourself. Wanted to punch your face in, then scent you up so hard no one else could ever smell you without me there too." 

It earned a low laugh from Sanji — the kind of laugh he never turned on Zoro, soft and warm and affectionate. "You're always gonna be that kind of barbarian, aren't you?" he murmured, fondness dripping from every word. "... My barbarian." 

"You're still a swirly moron. But… mine."

**Author's Note:**

> I had a lot of fun writing this one :>


End file.
